


onward and upward

by avalonjoan



Series: Henrietta: without magic, with medical careers [12]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medical, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Bathing/Washing, Boston, College Student Adam Parrish, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Forehead Kisses, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, PA student but you know, Paramedic Ronan Lynch, Sharing Clothes, Sick Character, Sick Ronan Lynch, Sickfic, Sneezing, Texting, Whump, again not quite sure of the distinction at this point, bc SOMEONE has germs, i feel like that's the trifecta of comfort, lots of non-mouth kisses in general, poorly timed nudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29008938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avalonjoan/pseuds/avalonjoan
Summary: There were fifteen minutes left of the two-hour lecture on strokes when Ronan sent Adam a dickpic on goddamn Facebook Messenger. To be fair, Adam probably shouldn’t have had Facebook open on his computer at all, but how else was he supposed to send frantic mid-lecture messages to his classmates? He’d just sent one to Dani about the Circle of Willis when Ronan’s message popped up, absolutely derailing any trains of thought besides ‘boyfriend hot’ and ‘I’m in the front row oh god oh fuck’.---It's summer semester of PA school and Adam has three group projects, two exams, and one feverish boyfriend who keeps sending selfies while he's in class. He can't decide which of these is going to kill him faster, but no matter what, he's in for quite a week.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Series: Henrietta: without magic, with medical careers [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971451
Comments: 69
Kudos: 157





	1. Chapter 1

Adam had an exam in the morning. Specifically, he had a nephrology exam at eight. He was ready; he could talk about ions and glucose and concentration gradients and active transport and aldosterone well enough that some of his classmates had gone to him for study help. He could probably draw a nephron in his sleep. If he could fucking get to sleep, that is.

“Ronan, I can’t sleep with you squirming like that.”

“I can’t help it.” Ronan went still.

Dreading what he would find, Adam rolled over and checked the time on his phone: 1:55. “I have to wake up in five hours” he said, toeing the line between imploring and whiny.

“I’m sorry.” Ronan said, rolling onto his back for a second, then onto his other side. “My skin feels weird.”

Adam sighed. “Can your skin go feel weird on the couch? Please?”

With a sudden shift of the mattress, Ronan shot up. “Are you fucking serious?”

 _Why_ had he thought that would go over well? “Nevermind, I’ll go. Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” Ronan’s clipped tone made it clear that it was _not_ fine, but he was on his feet and out the door before Adam could say anything else. The door slammed behind him, and if Adam hadn’t been so desperate for sleep, he might have gone after him. But a 2 AM argument wouldn’t make anything better for either of them. He breathed slowly, promised to make things right tomorrow, and fell asleep.

* * *

Morning came, and once Adam remembered why Ronan wasn’t next to him he felt heavy with shame. Of all people to kick out of bed, to complain about being kept awake to, it just had to be Ronan, didn’t it? It had been a while since the nightmares kept him up--he’d gotten them under control when Adam was in undergrad--but that didn’t undo the time that he just...didn’t sleep. In those years, more often than not, Adam would wake up to find Ronan patiently waiting next to him, having been awake since some ungodly hour of the morning. Other times, he’d wake in the middle of the night to find Ronan gone entirely. It was a relatively new development that they went to sleep and woke up around the same time, and now Adam had been selfish and overreacted and _dammit_ this was _not_ conducive to taking an exam in an hour.

He didn’t hear any movement in the living room when he cracked the bedroom door, and if he was being honest, it was a relief; the absolute last thing he needed now was a fight. Scribbling a quick apology onto a piece of notebook paper, he tiptoed into the other room, saw that Ronan was still asleep (although the way the blanket was twisted around him hinted at a night spent tossing and turning), and laid the note on the end table before leaving.

The exam went well, but that didn’t stop Adam from sitting there for the entire time and reviewing his answers up until the last second. When the professor announced that time was up, he handed in his packet on the way out and immediately took out his phone. There was a message from Ronan, saying good morning and asking him to call, sending Adam into a few seconds of palpitations. He couldn’t read Ronan’s tone, and he was terrified as he waited for his boyfriend to pick up.

“Hey.” For once, he was appreciative of the fact that he could only hear on one side; the medical education building had an open atrium so everything echoed horrendously, and he didn’t want to waste time asking Ronan to repeat everything over the sound of the entire class agonizing about how the exam went. “I’m sorry about last night. I was really stressed, but I shouldn’t have been such a dick to you.”

Ronan made a grunt of understanding. “‘s okay. I could’ve been nicer about it too.” He cleared his throat. “How’d the exam go?”

Leaning against the wall, Adam sighed, relieved both that the exam was over and that Ronan wasn’t still upset with him. “Okay, I think. It’s a paper exam so it’ll take a few days until I know.” He pressed the phone closer against his ear--he would have gone down the hall to talk if his next class wasn’t starting in two minutes. Dr. Kelleher started precisely on time and was a fast talker, so Adam couldn’t afford to be even the slightest bit late. “When did you end up falling asleep?”

“Four, maybe? I still feel weird, though. My skin’s super sensitive; I’m literally lying in bed with my dick out ‘cause all my clothes felt prickly.”

Adam smiled at the image. “Send me a picture, why don’t you?” Feeling himself blush, he turned away from the lounge area that his classmates were congregated in. “Help me get through the day, you know?”

“Want a video instead?” 

Oh fuck. He could _hear_ Ronan’s facial expression over the phone, lips curled in a dangerous smile; Adam laced his fingers through his hair and pulled, letting the discomfort ground him just a little. How was he supposed to focus on goddamn neurology after this? “You’re gonna be the death of me, Lynch.”

“Oh, I know.” Ronan paused. “I’d better let you get to class.”

It was well-timed; Adam could see his classmates heading into the lecture hall. “Alright. I’ll see you later.”

“You finish at five today?”

Adam shook his head. “No, six. I’ve got the evidence-based medicine group project meeting after class.”

“Gross. I’ll throw something together for dinner.” 

Perhaps the simple act was made sweeter by the fact that Adam had spent his adolescence insistent on doing everything on his own, but he still felt warmth pool in his chest when Ronan cooked for him. It wasn’t like it was a rare occurrence--like most things around the apartment, they split it as evenly as their schedules would allow--but Ronan had a way of catching him by surprise. First semester, Adam had come home after a rush-hour commute on a packed Green Line car to a vibrant Thai curry, Ronan waiting for him shirtless in the kitchen because he’d spilled something and couldn’t be bothered to go to their room for a change of clothes. Second semester, he’d hauled his bike into their entryway after a 1 AM ride home from the library to find a tray of cupcakes, each one iced with letters spelling out ‘GOOD LUCK TMRW’, and Adam briefly contemplated going to Ronan’s ambulance base to propose right then. 

“Thanks.” He started toward the classroom. “I gotta run. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” 

* * *

There were fifteen minutes left of the two-hour lecture on strokes when Ronan sent Adam a dickpic on goddamn Facebook Messenger. To be fair, Adam probably shouldn’t have had Facebook open on his computer at all, but how else was he supposed to send frantic mid-lecture messages to his classmates? He’d just sent **why is he drawing the circle of willis again it’s on the other chalkboard do you think he just...forgot** to Dani when Ronan’s message popped up, absolutely derailing any trains of thought besides ‘boyfriend hot’ and ‘I’m in the front row oh god oh fuck’.

The image was small enough that Adam was relatively sure that no one seated behind him could see, and he quickly closed the window. His heart pounded, he felt hot, a little sweaty, as he tried to casually glance around him, making it look like he was stretching. No one was staring at him with wide eyes, having just seen his boyfriend sprawled on their bed with every beautiful part on full display. He let out a breath; Ronan hadn’t condemned him to being the subject of neverending gossip.

While he’d been successful in hiding the message, there was no way for Adam to conceal the deep flush of his face--not a gentle pink creeping over his cheeks, but zero-to-bright-red in a split second. He was grateful for the intense air conditioning in the building and pressed his cool palms to his neck, then his cheeks. Fifteen minutes. He just needed to survive fifteen minutes, then he could throw some water on his face and calm himself down. After taking a closer look at the picture, of course.

As soon as the clock struck noon, Dr. Kelleher stopped; he was just as committed to ending on time as he was to starting, something that Adam wished the other professors would do. Adam looked at the board, made sure that he’d scribbled everything down, and packed everything into his bag as quickly as humanly possible. Racing down the amphitheater steps, he continued into the hallway and made a beeline for the exit. It wasn’t too hot in the shade behind the building, plus, no one ever went there, so he was relatively safe from discovery as he pulled out his phone, finally getting a good look at Ronan’s picture.

Turns out, he’d sent two--Adam had missed the second one in his haste to close the chat window. He looked at the body shot first: an expanse of pale skin begging to be touched, flexed leg showing off the muscles of his thigh, Ronan’s hand dangerously close to his dick. Adam shifted positions, adjusted his jeans, and pulled up the second picture. This one was of Ronan’s chest and face as he rested against the headboard. Not surprisingly, there was a smirk on his lips; he knew exactly what these pictures were doing to Adam. As Adam studied his expression, though, something looked off, something he couldn’t articulate. 

Even though he was in a secluded area, Adam didn’t want to risk anyone overhearing their conversation, so he texted Ronan instead.  
  


**_-You are KILLING ME  
_ ** **_-MESSENGER?  
_ ** **_-I use my computer during class you fucking asshole  
_ ** **_-Everyone could have seen  
  
_ **

**;)  
** **Did they?**

**_  
-No, but only because of my lightning quick reflexes_ **

**  
So what did you think?**

**_  
-I thoroughly enjoyed them_  
** **_-AFTER class_  
** **_-You really are beautiful_  
** **_-But if you do send a video just like, email it to me_ **

**  
I’ll fax you my nudes next time  
** **Hire a carrier pigeon  
** **Send a telegram about what I want to do to you**

 ** _  
-Ha ha ha_  
  
**  
******Probably not going to send a video today though  
** **Gonna have something to eat and try to sleep a little more  
** **Still feeling weird**

 **  
_-Sorry babe  
_ ** **_-Have a good nap  
_ ** **_-Love you_ **

**  
** Adam pocketed his phone. He should head back; they’d had a dermatology lecture about skin cancer last week, so he was a little spooked about sitting around in the midday summer sun. He allowed himself a few minutes to relax (read: to let his hard-on resolve before facing his classmates) before going inside in search of a quiet place to eat lunch and read.

He’d settled into one of the cushioned benches near the simulation lab when someone said his name, and he turned to see Allie coming down the stairs. He started to panic (oh god she’d seen, she’d seen his computer during class and she was just waiting until after to say something) and smiled, trying to keep his expression as placid as possible. “Hey.”

She didn’t look like someone who was about to bring up something incredibly embarrassing. Instead, her eyebrows were lowered, a small frown on her lips in a look of concern. “I was hoping I’d run into you. Are you feeling okay?”

“Huh?” He blinked a few times, then nodded, a little too late. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“Okay.” She drew out the word, clearly not convinced. “It’s just--you looked a little, I don’t know--feverish?--during neuro, so I thought I’d check in.”

“Oh.” Adam was aware that he wasn’t doing a great job of interacting like a normal person, but there was no way to explain what had actually happened. “No, I’m fine, I promise. Just anxious about remembering all this.” He gestured to his notebook.

Allie widened her eyes and nodded. “Oh, I feel you on that. Anyway--just wanted to make sure you were doing alright.”

“Thanks.” 

“Anytime. Well, I’ll leave you to it--see you in peds.”

Adam smiled. “See you then.”

Crisis averted. Perhaps an imagined crisis, but nevertheless, Adam felt himself relax as Allie headed down the hall. He’d been looking at his notes for a few minutes when something that she said made its way back into his head, and he took out his phone to text Ronan again.

**  
_-Hey--do me a favor and check your temp if you get a chance_  
  
**

Ronan still hadn’t replied by the time Adam packed up to go to his pediatrics lecture almost forty-five minutes later.

* * *

When Adam got back to the apartment at six-thirty after an infuriating group project meeting, dinner had decidedly not been thrown together. Moreover, Ronan was nowhere to be seen. The living room was empty, the lights were off in the kitchen, and the bathroom door was open, so there was only one place left for Ronan to be. Hungry and more than a little annoyed, Adam went to the bedroom and opened the door.

Ronan was out cold, lying naked on top of the covers. It wasn’t like him to sleep during the day, and while Adam could chalk up a few hours’ nap to a rough night, it didn’t explain why Ronan was still asleep after almost six hours. His annoyance giving way to concern, Adam took a seat on his own side of the bed and touched Ronan’s shoulder. “Hey. Wake up, sleepyhead.”

Groaning, Ronan blinked up at him. Something was off; Adam couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but he’d seen Ronan recently awakened hundreds of times, and this was different. Adam could see it in his eyes. Or was it his lips? His cheeks? 

“Morning,” Ronan grumbled, yawning.

“Babe, it’s almost seven.”

“PM?” His eyes shot open when Adam nodded. “Shit--I said I was gonna--” He scrambled to sit up. “I’m sorry--my alarm--I don’t know what happened.”

Adam put a hand on Ronan’s chest, gently easing him down so that his head was in Adam’s lap. “Hey. Don’t worry about it.” He massaged his fingertips over the other’s scalp. “What’s going on?”

Ronan shrugged, relaxing into Adam. “I thought some sleep would help, but I just feel bleh, you know?”

With a hum of understanding, Adam felt an ache kindling behind his sternum: sympathy, or worry. “I take it you never took your temp?” When Ronan made a wordless ‘no’ sound, Adam moved a hand forward to rest on his forehead; he didn’t feel warm, but then again, Adam had only minutes ago gotten in from the eighty-degree weather. “Why don’t you do that while I order something for dinner?” Ronan nodded, starting to sit up. “Pizza okay?” 

“Yeah.” Stretching his arms upward, then down to the sides, Ronan looked to Adam. “I’m really sorry about—”

Adam shook his head. “Nope. No apologizing when you look like this.”

“Look like what?” Ronan scowled.

Rolling his eyes, Adam got to his feet, holding out a hand and helping Ronan up. “Like you just woke up from a six-hour nap and could go back to sleep for another six.”

They went down the hall, Ronan peeling off into the bathroom while Adam went to the fridge to find the number for the pizza place. He knocked their calendar down in the process and was trying to get the magnets to hold it back up when Ronan shuffled into view and sat down at the table. Once Adam had successfully located the pizza place’s menu and gotten the calendar to stop sliding down the freezer door, he turned to Ronan and raised his brow in question.

“99.5.” Ronan shrugged. 

Adam came closer, bending over to press his lips to Ronan’s forehead. “Technically that’s not really a fever, so--”

A caricature of a cheerful expression appeared on Ronan’s face: eyes wide, eyebrows raised, teeth bared in a menacing smile. “Oh, okay!” he said, balanced on a knife’s edge between anger and delight, “I’ll just feel better then! Thanks!”

Adam pulled away, crossing his arms. “I just meant that like, medically it’s not concerning. You don’t have to be a jerk about it.”

Ronan sighed, closed his eyes, then looked back at Adam. “I’m sorry.” He held out his arms and Adam allowed Ronan to wrap them around his waist, head resting on his stomach. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“Thanks.” Rubbing Ronan’s upper back with one hand, Adam waved the flier for the pizza place near his face. “You’ve definitely crossed into hangry territory, though, so I’m gonna order.”

Ronan didn’t move from his position. “Can we get the one with the fried eggplant?”

“Of course. But you’re gonna have to let go so I can get my phone out of my pocket.”

Pouting, Ronan released Adam and went into the living room, where a few minutes later Adam found him curled up under a blanket, head on the armrest of the couch, eyes half-open. Even though the not-fever wasn’t worrisome, everything else about Ronan was. Adam got his laptop from his bag and started to neaten up his notes from the day, sitting in the armchair that gave him the best view of the couch. By the time he headed out to pick up dinner, Ronan was asleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big thanks to screwsfallout for the 'Ronan with a climbing fever' prompt, and werealldreaming for the 'Adam's just having a tough time in PA school' prompt! 
> 
> I don't ever *intend* to write things with chapters, it's just...sometimes things clock in around 10k and I'm like...well if I were reading this I would like a break. So I'm gonna put the rest of it up over the course of this week (and I think it'll end up matching up with the days in the fic). Thanks for reading :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronan was sitting on the floor of the bathroom, a towel hanging behind his head and another around his shoulders. He was smiling and giving a thumbs-up, but it looked like it was taking every ounce of effort he had to do it. It could have been the lighting making Ronan look beyond pale, but it probably wasn’t. A message came in right after.
> 
> Guess who almost passed out in the showerrrrr  
> It’s me  
> I did

Morning came with an actual fever: 100.5, taken hurriedly at Adam’s request as he got dressed. Ronan called out of work and relocated to the couch. Adam went to class and worried.

He went directly from pharmacology to a meeting for a different group project--a PowerPoint about root cause analysis of adverse events--and then took a few minutes to eat a slice of cold pizza in one of the small study rooms; before Adam knew it, the day was more than halfway through and he hadn’t talked with Ronan once. During a particularly dull moment of a lecture on ultrasounds, Adam sent a message asking how he was feeling. Ronan replied almost instantly with a picture; he was sitting sideways in the armchair, curled up with his knees just in frame, mug in one hand. The side of his head rested against the seatback, cheek pressed into the fabric. He pouted a little. He looked awful.

**  
Not great  
** **I threw up a few times earlier and now I’ve got a killer headache**

**_  
-Oh honey  
_ ** **_-I’m sorry  
_ ** **_-Do you need me to get anything on my way home?_ **

**  
Can’t think of anything  
** **When do you finish today?  
  
**

**_-Five_  
  
**

**:)  
** **See you relatively soonish then  
** **btw I’ve been fucking with the thermostat all day  
** **Sorry in advance for it being too hot or too cold in here  
  
**

That night, Adam sat on the couch in shorts and a t-shirt, doing a worksheet on arterial blood gas interpretation while Ronan sipped Pedialyte and flipped through his phone next to him. The fever had gone down earlier with some Tylenol but was starting to creep back up, evidenced by Ronan repeatedly getting up to put on more layers. Finally, under two sweatshirts, a pair of sweatpants, and a blanket, he fell asleep with his head in Adam’s lap, face warm on his bare thigh. When Adam couldn’t focus on his work any longer, he walked Ronan to the bedroom, foisted some more Tylenol on him, and tried to relax enough to be able to sleep.

* * *

Adam considered skipping class, just for a moment, when Ronan’s temp was over 101 the following morning, but Ronan wouldn’t have it. “What are you gonna do for me if you stay home?” he demanded, still in bed as Adam hovered over an open dresser drawer and deliberated. “I can take care of myself, and you’ve got shit to do.” He ducked his head under the blanket to cover a cough, which had been a lovely development overnight. 

“I guess you’re right.” Adam started to change out of his PJs. “I just don’t like not knowing what’s wrong.”

“It’s just some stupid virus--I’ll be fine in a few days.”

Probably, but there were also a lot of not-stupid viruses, and bacteria, and autoimmune conditions, and—no. He was _not_ going down that rabbit hole. There were so many things that caused a fever and cough. Hell, he himself had been hospitalized with pneumonia only a few years ago, but this seemed different. Did granulomatosis with polyangiitis cause a fever? Was Virginia in coccidioidomycosis territory? No, no--histoplasmosis, but they hadn’t been there in months. He needed to review his pulmonology notes. And his infectious disease notes. He needed to take a fucking break.

“I can hear you thinking from here,” Ronan said, and Adam snapped to look at him. “Stop being a _PA student_ —” he stressed the words teasingly, and Adam let out a snort of laughter “--and go be a PA student.”

Nodding, Adam sighed. “Alright.” Now fully dressed, he went over and kissed Ronan’s forehead. “Need anything before I head out?”

Ronan shook his head. “Nope.”

“Text me if anything changes?”

"I will."

"Maybe try to eat something?" Ronan made a face; it had taken a fair amount of convincing to get him to have some toast the night before. "Or at least try to hydrate."

Obligingly, Ronan nodded. “Will do. Now get out of here.” When he smiled, he actually looked okay.

* * *

Even though he was still smiling in the picture he sent a few hours later, Ronan no longer looked okay. Adam had been scrolling through Facebook while Professor Riley walked them through the ABG exercises from the night before--he’d gotten them all correct, so he didn’t feel the need to pay close attention--when a message popped up. Even though they’d gone over the ‘do not ever send me nudes on Facebook’ rule, his heart still skipped a beat when he saw that it was a picture, but as soon as he actually looked at the image, concern immediately replaced panic.

It took a moment for Adam to realize that Ronan was sitting on the floor of the bathroom, a towel hanging behind his head and another around his shoulders. He was smiling and giving a thumbs-up, but it looked like it was taking every ounce of effort he had to do it. It could have been the lighting making Ronan look beyond pale, but it probably wasn’t. A message came in right after.

**  
Guess who almost passed out in the showerrrrr  
** **It’s me  
** **I did  
  
**

Now Adam’s heart was pounding. He tried to breathe evenly.  
  


**_-Are you okay???_  
** **_-Hang on I’m gonna call you_  
**

**  
Do NOT leave class for this  
** **Shit  
** **I’m sorry  
** **I’m fine, I promise  
** **I had some water and I’m feeling better  
** **I’m gonna stay in bed until you’re back  
**

**  
_-When I almost passed out you made me go to the hospital_  
**

**  
That was different  
** **I’m a fainter  
** **A delicate flower  
** **This just happens sometimes  
** **You know that  
  
**

True, it did ‘just happen’ to Ronan sometimes, but Adam worried a lot less when it was because he’d been working outside for too long on a hot day or something else that could be easily remedied. With a fever, there wasn’t the option of going inside and cooling off. He especially didn’t like it when he wasn’t home.

**  
_-Please be careful getting to bed  
_ ** **_-I don’t want you to hurt yourself_ **

**  
I will  
** **Be careful, that is  
** **Love you**

**_  
-Love you too._  
  
**

Adam felt a little better when Ronan sent a picture from bed, still shirtless, his smile a bit more convincing this time. It was enough to carry him through the rest of the day. Well, that plus a few more reassuring texts along the way.

He was packing up after the last class when Dani came over. “Hey, did you get my message?”

“Uh--I must have missed it. I’ve been a little distracted. What was it about?”

“My presentation group decided to meet tomorrow, so I was hoping we could actually work on ours today.”

There was no way that Adam could hide his dismay, his shoulders sagging. “I’d really prefer—”

She didn’t let him finish. “We’re cutting it close, so I don’t really know when else we could meet.”

Of course, she was right. They were supposed to give a five-minute talk about something--Rose gardener’s disease? Rose thorn disease? Something to do with roses--on Monday. Clearly, he’d been putting it off. “No, you’re right. Meet in 402 after psych?”

“Perfect.”

It was decidedly not perfect, but Adam didn’t have much of a choice. He texted Ronan that he wouldn’t be home until after six again, getting a frowny face in return.

* * *

Later, after Adam fed and watered and medicated him, Ronan was able to get up and walk to the bathtub without too much help. “Thanks for doing this,” he said as Adam washed the last day’s fever sweat off him, which was much more welcome than the ‘you don’t have the do this’ that Adam had been expecting. “I didn’t mean to scare you earlier.”

Kneeling behind Ronan, Adam ran the washcloth over his shoulder, pressing into the muscles of his upper back with his thumb. “I know.” He leaned in and kissed Ronan’s neck, sliding the washcloth down his arm. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, especially when I’m not here.”

“I know.” Ronan nodded. “You’ve had a busy week.”

Adam leaned forward and rested his forehead against Ronan’s other shoulder. “It’s awful. I don’t know why every professor decided that group projects were a good idea, but it’s legit the worst.”

“Yeah, I do _not_ miss that part of school.” 

“Is there a part of school you do miss?”

“Getting to see you in your cute little uniform every day wasn’t bad.” Grinning, Ronan twisted around; Adam sat up; they almost kissed, but didn’t, with Ronan turning away just before their lips touched. “Don’t want you to get this.”

With a playful frown, Adam kissed the tip of Ronan’s nose. A second later, Ronan’s eyelids fluttered, lips parting slightly, before he jerked away and sneezed twice, half-covering them with the back of his wrist. “Sorry,” Adam giggled. “Let’s finish up so you can get cozy again.”

They finished washing up, getting sidetracked momentarily by the amusement of flicking water at each other and then sloshing some onto the floor during the ensuing flailing. After a final rinse under the shower, Adam wrapped a towel around Ronan and helped him to his feet. “I got it,” Ronan said, “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.”

“Good.” Adam kissed his forehead, for once not to gauge his temperature (it would be useless so soon after bathing anyway), but because he missed having his mouth on Ronan’s. The almost-kiss in the tub had reminded him of what he wasn’t getting. “But you’re also pumped full of every cold medicine known to man, so…”

“Oh, just let me enjoy this.” He poked Adam in the shoulder, then started drying himself off. “Do you have a lot of work tonight?”

Always. Even when he didn’t have to make a PowerPoint about sporotrichosis, there was always studying to be done, and there would be until he graduated and passed his boards next year. “Yes. But I honestly think I might die if I have to look at my computer any more today.”

“Does that mean you’re gonna read me your printed notes?” 

“I should look over anatomy--we’ve got a lab exam on Friday.”

“Okay, so you want to sit on the couch and point out muscles and stuff to me?”

Adam smiled. “Structures in the thoracic cavity, but yes?”

“Oh, even better. I’m absolutely nuts for the thoracic cavity.” With a shit-eating grin, Ronan took Adam by the shoulders, spun him around, and marched them both to the bedroom to get dressed. 

Once they were settled on the couch with tea and textbooks, Ronan quizzed Adam, covering up the labels on the diagram and having him name the vessels and organs. They’d been at it for almost an hour when Ronan visibly started flagging; his cough picked up, he started shivering, and it seemed like his brain was running on a few-second delay. "I think it’s time for bed,” Adam urged, closing his text and dropping it on the floor with a thud. Even though he shook his head, Ronan proceeded to lie down on Adam’s lap and grope for the blanket draped over the back of the couch. “Not here, you idiot.”

“But I’m comfy.” Ronan’s voice was weak, cutting in and out, a mix of developing hoarseness and exhaustion.

Sliding a hand under his shoulder, Adam tried to lift Ronan back to a sitting position. “Well, I’m not. Plus we gotta get that fever back down--you’re burning up again.”

With a slow nod, Ronan stood and headed down the hall. Adam found him in the bathroom, thermometer under his tongue, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Wordlessly, Adam stood behind him and rested his chin on Ronan’s shoulder, wrapping his arms loosely around his boyfriend. Ronan closed his eyes. The thermometer beeped.

“102.3,” he read, setting it down on the counter. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

Rubbing his hand over Ronan’s chest, Adam kissed his neck. “Maybe give your doctor a call tomorrow?”

“Maybe. I’ll see if things are better in the morning.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahaha as if I'm gonna let things be better in the morning. y'all know me better than that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam took a breath. Opened his mouth. Managed about a syllable of his planned speech before his eyes welled up and tears spilled over. Frantically wiping at his cheeks, he tried to explain, talking about exams and Ronan and meetings, until the program director said his name: gentle, sympathetic. Adam’s breath caught. He closed his eyes, exhaled through tight lips. “Sorry, this—” he wavered, steadied himself, and continued “--this wasn’t how I pictured this going.”
> 
> “You’re not the first to come to my office like this, and you certainly won’t be the last.” Was that reassuring? Yes, Adam decided, it was.

Things were not better in the morning. They were distinctly worse, with Ronan’s temperature hovering just under 103 after a night of practically no sleep from a worsening sore throat. “Call your doctor, seriously,” Adam pleaded as he got dressed; again, Ronan adamantly refused the offer to stay home with him. “You made me go to the hospital when I had a fever this bad.”

“But I’m not coughing up a goddamn lung like you were,” Ronan countered, wincing as he swallowed a handful of various pills with a gulp of water, “and again, I know what people who need to go to the ER look like, and this ain’t it.”

Sitting on the side of the bed, Adam pressed his hand to Ronan’s burning cheek. “Can we not let it get to that point, please?”

“I’ll call when they open.” Adam knew that as stubborn as Ronan was, he didn’t want to worry Adam more than necessary; a small privilege of being constantly under grad school stress. Ronan would do what he asked, because otherwise he wouldn’t be able to focus on his work and that wouldn't be good for either of them. “Now go, you’re gonna be late. I’ll text you.”

* * *

Adam slid into his seat a few minutes before the start of cardiology. He was just about to put his phone away when Ronan sent a picture. He was lying in bed, face half-hidden by the pillow, and giving a weak smile, his face flushed and sweaty. It was just the fever breaking, Adam reminded himself; Ronan always looked worse right after the Tylenol kicked in.

**  
They can see me at 2**

**_  
-Oh good!  
_ ** **_-You gonna drive there?_ **

**  
****Well I’m sure as hell not gonna take the T like this**

 ** _  
-Be nice  
-I meant if you were gonna take a Lyft instead  
_** ******_-I gotta go, class is starting  
_ ** **_-Let me know what they say_ **

**  
****I will**

* * *

  
At twelve-thirty, Adam was in the library eating a sandwich with one hand and clicking through slides with the other when a message popped up in the corner of his screen. There was a picture that he couldn’t make out in the thumbnail, followed by a frowny face. With his non-sandwich-holding hand, he opened the message. Ronan had sent a picture of the thermometer, the screen displaying 103.2. Another picture came in right after, taken in the bathroom mirror, of Ronan with a blanket around his shoulders, looking miserable. His nose was pink, as were the rims of his eyes, and Adam just wanted to go home and hold him until he felt better.

 **  
I don’t think I’ve ever had a fever this high and it feels so weird  
** **It’s like being a little drunk but also terrible**

 **_  
-Shit  
_ ** **_-Maybe you shouldn't drive to your appt_ **

**  
I’ll be fine once I take something  
  
**

The last bite of sandwich still held between his thumb and forefinger, Adam pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw stars. Ronan would be fine. He wasn’t an idiot. Well, he was, but he wouldn’t drive if he didn’t think it was safe; he’d done enough of that in high school.

Another message showed up on screen, but not from Ronan. It was from his RCA project group chat, about finding a time to meet and could they do today? How about tomorrow before classes? No, that wouldn’t work for Mark, maybe at lunch? Or even a Zoom later tonight? Suggestions kept coming in, and conflicts, and Adam just sat and looked at each message appear. This was too much, all too much, and he was wrong, he wasn’t cut out for this, he’d made a mistake. If he couldn’t handle the stress of school, how was he supposed to handle this as a career?

He took a deep breath and held it for as long as he could; he knew that the instant he let it out, he’d start to cry, and he didn’t have time for that. After too long, his lungs burning, he managed to exhale, slowly, until he could think again. He felt dizzy. He didn’t know what to do.

No, he knew what to do. He sent a brief email to Kent, asking if he had any time available to meet with him briefly. Even though he was the program director, he was the person Adam felt most comfortable going to. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was the only member of the faculty who went by his first name. Maybe it was because he always ended his presentations with a picture of his kids or his husband. Maybe it was just because he was a professor who clearly wanted his students to do well. Kent emailed back almost instantly.

After the cross-campus walk to the PA offices, Adam was feeling better, calmer. He considered turning back, emailing Kent that he’d actually sorted the issue out, but he was already there, already going up the stairs, already knocking on the door.

“Adam,” Kent said, smiling, approachable in such a genuine way, “Come in.” He’d never actually been to Kent’s office before--there hadn’t been need to--and it wasn’t what he expected. The wooden desk that would typically be separating student and professor was pushed against the wall, and instead of manicured bookcases with carefully interspersed trinkets, there were simply books on every possible horizontal surface. Two chairs, low and leather, faced each other; Kent took a seat in one while Adam closed the door and sat in the other. “What can I do for you?”

Adam took a breath. Opened his mouth. Managed about a syllable of his planned speech before his eyes welled up and tears spilled over. Frantically wiping at his cheeks, he tried to explain, talking about exams and Ronan and meetings, until Kent said his name: gentle, sympathetic. Adam’s breath caught. He closed his eyes, exhaled through tight lips. “Sorry, this—” he wavered, steadied himself, and continued “--this wasn’t how I pictured this going.”

“You’re not the first to come to my office like this, and you certainly won’t be the last.” Was that reassuring? Yes, Adam decided, it was. “I, uh, didn’t catch everything you said,” Kent said apologetically, “but it sounds like you’ve got a lot going on.” Sniffling, Adam nodded. “How can I help?”

He hadn’t actually thought that far into this. “I don’t know--I think I just came here to vent.”

Kent nodded. “And that’s fine. I get being frustrated--you’ve been at this for almost a year, sitting next to the same people, breathing next to the same people, and now we’re asking you to spend even more time with them--too much, it sounds like.” He paused, looking up, as if considering what to do. “Remind me what you have this afternoon? Healthcare delivery and...”

“Um. Research methods.”

“Riveting, I’m sure.” Was that a smile on Kent’s lips? “I’m not worried about you academically in the slightest, Adam. I don’t think that missing a few hours hearing about Medicare or p-values will make you any less of a fantastic PA when all this is over.”

Adam didn’t realize how much he needed to hear that until the words were out of Kent’s mouth. _I’m not worried about you._

After a pause, as if he was aware that his statement might need a minute to sink in, Kent continued, “If I told you that this counts as a family emergency and that you should skip both of them, would you listen to me?” With a shuddering breath, Adam nodded. “Good. I’ll let the instructors know.” 

A weight lifted, one that he hadn’t even realized was there--god, when was the last time he’d left campus before five? Everything felt manageable. Well, more manageable. “Thank you.” Adam stood, picked up his bag. “I really appreciate it.” When he turned for the door, Kent said his name again, and he turned back.

“Don’t study for my anatomy exam tomorrow. You could skip it and still get an A.” Kent smiled. “I hope your boyfriend recovers quickly.”

Worried that either his heart would physically burst or that he would start to cry, Adam gave a nod, repeated his thanks, and dashed out of the office. Standing in the sun outside the building, he took out his phone and called a Lyft; there was no way he’d make it back to the apartment in time to intercept Ronan if he took the T, and besides, crying in a stranger’s car was infinitely better than crying on the Green Line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based on real events! summer semester of my first PA school year suuuucked and I cried in the hot program director's office. (I still passed the anatomy exam.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What the fuck, Parrish?” Ronan said, his voice low, “You’re supposed to be in class.”
> 
> Adam huffed a breath of laughter out through his nose. “I kinda had a breakdown in the program director’s office and he told me to take the afternoon off.”
> 
> “And you listened?” Raising an eyebrow, Ronan stood.
> 
> “I feel like it’s poor form to go into someone’s office, sob for two minutes, and then be like ‘nah, I’m good.’”

He hadn’t told Ronan he was coming home; he’d had enough internal turmoil about the decision and didn’t want Ronan insisting against it and making things harder. When the Lyft pulled up, their car was still in its spot, meaning that Ronan either hadn’t left yet or had realized that driving himself was stupid and irresponsible. Adam raced up the stairs and let himself into the apartment, nearly tripping over Ronan, who was tying his sneaker down on one knee. Adam gasped and jumped back; Ronan looked up and let out a rough yelp before bending over coughing.

“What the fuck, Parrish?” he said once it stopped, his voice low, “You’re supposed to be in class.”

Adam huffed a breath of laughter out through his nose. “I kinda had a breakdown in the program director’s office and he told me to take the afternoon off.”

“And you listened?” Raising an eyebrow, Ronan stood.

“I feel like it’s poor form to go into someone’s office, sob for two minutes, and then be like ‘nah, I’m good.’” As Ronan tilted his head in concession, Adam stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” 

Adam smoothed his hand over Ronan’s head; even with just a few days without buzzing it, there was a palpable difference, more fluff than prickle. “Sorry, babe. Let’s get on the road so we can get to the bottom of this, yeah?” Nodding, Ronan grabbed his leather jacket from the coat closet; Adam put a hand out to stop him. “Lynch, it’s seventy-five degrees out.”

“And I’m fucking freezing.”

With a sigh, Adam shook his head. “If I get you my Harvard sweatshirt, will you wear that instead? The idea of wearing leather in this makes my skin crawl.”

“Oh, so when _my_ skin feels crawly you make me sleep on the couch, but when it’s _you_ , I have to change?” 

“Yep. I’m the boss.” Adam retrieved the sweatshirt from their room and tossed it to Ronan, who pulled it over his head and flipped up the hood. “Better?”

Following Adam out of the apartment, he grumbled, “Yes. But I’d be a lot better if I had my jacket.” 

The playful argument made Adam smile, even calmed him a little. “When you inevitably get sick this winter, you can wear it whenever you want.”

“Already planning on it.” Ronan grinned, leaning against the stairway railing while Adam took out his keys. “I just hope the zippers won’t scratch you when we’re cuddling.”

“Fucking smartass.” After locking the door, Adam kissed Ronan’s stupid forehead and walked him down to the car.

Being Boston, it took longer to find parking than it did to actually get to the office, so Adam dropped Ronan at the front while he went to look for a space. Once he’d found something that he was relatively sure wouldn’t get him towed, he returned to the building to find Ronan in the waiting room, sitting in a corner chair and leaning sideways against the wall. A surgical mask covered the lower half of his face, so all that was visible were his tired, fever-shiny eyes. “Hey, love,” Adam said, taking the seat next to him. “You all checked in and everything?”

Ronan nodded. “I guess they’re running a little behind schedule.” He leaned away from the wall and against Adam, their shoulders touching. “I think my temp’s coming back up--I tried taking ibuprofen this time but I don’t think I took enough.”

Pressing a hand to Ronan’s forehead, Adam frowned, then put his arm around him. They couldn’t get too close, what with the chairs’ wooden armrests between them, but with some careful positioning, Ronan was able to put his head on Adam’s shoulder. As he glanced around the waiting area and saw a few people looking over at them, Adam realized what a sight they probably were: a pair of twentysomethings, one dressed for a summer afternoon, the other for an autumn evening, apparently trying to cuddle even though they were too tall to do it comfortably. It was more likely, though, that the attention had to do with the fact that they were fairly masculine men being so unabashedly affectionate with each other. No matter the time, no matter the place, someone always seemed surprised, like they’d already decided that the two of them were brothers or teammates or something. On more than one occasion, Ronan had caught someone staring and proceeded to scowl back at them before pulling Adam into a ferocious kiss, just to make it clear that yes, they were two men in love, at least one of whom wouldn’t hesitate to fight you about it.

There would be no fighting with strangers today; Ronan had dozed off on Adam’s shoulder by the time the medical assistant called to bring them into an exam room. She took Ronan’s vitals, making a small sound of sympathy when she took his temperature, then reclined the exam table so that he could lie down. Ronan had to curl his knees up to fit and Adam stood beside him, the fingers of one hand laced with Ronan’s, the other trailing patterns over his scalp. “Oh, sweetheart,” he said as Ronan tucked his arms tightly against his chest, his whole body shaking, "You're shivering.”

“I really don't feel good.” Ronan squeezed Adam’s hand. “But I’m glad you’re here. I always feel better when I’m with you.”

There was a knock at the door, and the doctor came in and introduced herself. Ronan sat up and rattled off a report on how the week had been, just like the kind he’d give to an ER nurse about a patient, and then let the doctor examine him. After looking in his throat and listening to his chest and feeling for a variety of lymph nodes, she recommended doing some additional testing--apparently the exam didn’t fit into one particular diagnostic picture. She left, and a nurse came in to draw blood and collect samples from Ronan’s throat and nose, the latter of which made him tear up and curse under his breath.

“Jesus _Christ_ , that was worse than I imagined it,” he continued once the nurse left, rubbing at his nose and cheeks. “That’s not an orifice that’s supposed to be touched.” He inhaled sharply, looking frantically around the room as his breath hitched and he pinched the bridge of his nose. Without another option, he tugged the cuff of his sweatshirt over his hand and muffled two desperate sneezes into it. “Ugh. Sorry.” He lay back down, covering another sneeze with the edge of the sweatshirt's hood. “I’ll throw it in the wash when we get home.”

“I would have let you wear your jacket if I knew you were gonna get your germs all over my hoodie.” Adam resumed gently caressing Ronan’s head, sometimes letting his fingers wander down the side of his neck, sometimes rubbing his back if he started coughing. He kept going even after Ronan fell asleep, giving him no choice but to look on; Adam didn’t mind. Something about those years of waking up to one of Ronan’s nightmares had stuck with him--even though Ronan was only sleeping now because of a days-long raging fever, it was still relieving to see him at rest.

The doctor returned with information, Tylenol, and apple juice, but no answers. She told them what it wasn’t: mono, strep, the flu. The blood count didn’t point to some wild bacterial infection brewing somewhere. His kidney function showed that he was actually decently hydrated, news to which Ronan reacted by poking a finger at Adam, saying, “I told you I was doing a good job remembering to drink when you weren’t home.”

Adam swatted him away, and the doctor laughed. “I wish I had something to offer you,” she said, looking genuinely apologetic, “or at least a better answer.”

“Is there a way to test for other respiratory viruses?” Adam interjected, ignoring Ronan when he tried to cut him off, “I was doing some reading, and sometimes adenovirus can present like this in adults.”

The doctor nodded. “That’s true. And we could test for that, and for a dozen others like it, but it wouldn’t change anything.” Looking to Ronan, she went on, “In an otherwise healthy person like yourself, even if we knew the specific cause, I’d still tell you to take care of yourself at home and see how things go.”

A little embarrassed, Adam nodded. “Thank you. I, uh, might have gotten a little carried away on UpToDate.”

“He’s a PA student,” Ronan added.

“Ah. Well, now’s as good a time as any to learn that sometimes we just don’t find out why things happen. We call something like this a ‘flu-like illness’ and hope people get better--” Ronan made a whining sound in the back of his throat; it didn’t sound like a fun plan to Adam either. “--And most of the time they do. If they don’t, then we do some more digging. What I can tell you is that even though you’re incredibly uncomfortable, I don’t see anything that truly worries me. Go home, keep doing what you’ve been doing, and I’ll give you a call tomorrow to check in, alright?”

She reviewed some specific symptoms that would warrant an ER visit and sent them on their way. By the time Adam pulled the car up, Ronan was struggling to take his outermost layer off, starting to sweat as his temperature came down. As he got in the car, balling the sweatshirt in his lap, Adam raised an eyebrow at him. “Still rather be wearing the leather jacket?”

Ronan groaned. “Let me rest, Parrish, I’m fucking drowning here.” He tugged at the front of his t-shirt a few times, tongue dramatically hanging out like a dog’s, while Adam turned the AC on and started to drive. Once he was sufficiently cooled, head still lolled back on the headrest, Ronan turned to look at Adam. “Are _you_ feeling okay, by the way?”

After a moment of consideration, quickly running through everything wrong with Ronan that wasn’t wrong with Adam, he nodded. “Yeah--I feel fine.” Except for, you know, the stress about school and the worry about Ronan and the general dread that he wasn’t good enough for any of this. “I guess my immune system is just absolutely jacked.” 

“The sexiest bouncer known to man.”

“I’m trying to think of an analogy comparing checking IDs to like, one of the kinds of white blood cells, but I’m completely blanking.”

“You’re completely ridiculous is what you are.” Ronan shut off the AC and pulled Adam’s sweatshirt onto his arms so he was half-wearing it around the seatbelt.

Adam glanced at him. “Cold now?”

“Obviously.” He visibly shivered, and Adam cracked the windows to allow some outside heat in. “I’m so over this--it’s like, oh great, your fever came down so now you’re gross and hot and sweaty but now it’s evaporated and you’re freezing again. And still gross.”

“Aw, you poor thing,” Adam cooed, pouting mockingly at Ronan, “We can shower and throw on a movie when we get home.”

“Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but don’t you have an exam tomorrow?” 

Slowly, taking a moment to reassure himself before answering, Adam said, “Yes. But--I think I’m ready.” He paused. “I’ll just look everything over tomorrow morning.”

Ronan reached over and pressed the backs of his fingers to Adam’s cheek. “Are you _sure_ you’re feeling okay? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you turn down study time.”

“I think the best thing I can do for my brain today is cuddle you on the couch, eat Chinese food, and go to bed at like, ten.”

“Sounds good to me.” 

Once they arrived back at the apartment, Adam followed Ronan up the stairs (because it would be an _incredibly_ Ronan move to pass out as soon as they got back from the doctor’s office) and unlocked the door while Ronan caught his breath. “Do you maybe want to rest for a bit?” he asked, eyeing how Ronan put a hand on the doorframe for support as he went inside.

“God no.” Kicking off his shoes, Ronan proceeded to the bathroom, again with one hand against the wall. “And don’t worry, I’ll sit down.”

“I’m still coming with you.” 

Taking a bath took up too much water and too much time to be relaxing for past-Adam, but present-Adam didn’t have to worry as much. Ronan lay between his legs, back pressed to his chest, head tilted onto his shoulder. They laced fingers, becoming one warm, connected body, finally relaxed. Adam turned his head just enough to kiss Ronan’s temple. “I don’t think I’ve been this ready for a weekend in a long time.”

Ronan nodded, his hair tickling at Adam’s neck. “Sorry I picked the worst time to get super sick.”

Splashing at Ronan, and therefore at himself, Adam replied, “You’re officially cut off for the rest of PA school. You have to stay completely healthy until I pass my boards.”

“Pal, I’m in the wrong profession to make that promise.”

“Well, at least just like, don’t die.”

After a pause, Ronan nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”

They stayed like that, skin to skin, hands wandering where they could, until the water cooled and Ronan started to shiver. Relocating to the couch, Adam tucked a blanket around Ronan, who managed to stay awake for the entirety of one of the Tomb Raider movies (“It’s like, the opposite of anything medical, so it’s the perfect distraction movie for you,” he’d argued when picking it out.) Dinner was ordered and eaten, backrubs given and received, MarioKart races were won and lost to the dulcet tones of Ronan’s hoarse swearing. 

Adam was the one who started to doze off first. It wasn’t so much that he was physically tired--he was, of course--but more that he had spent the past four days with his mind running on full disaster mode. Gently, Ronan put an arm under Adam’s and helped him to his feet. “I think it’s bedtime,” he murmured, steering Adam to the bathroom.

“‘m supposed to be the one taking care of you,” Adam said, starting to brush his teeth before Ronan stopped him and squeezed toothpaste onto the brush. “Oh.”

“I’ll let you dote on me again tomorrow. Let’s just get you to bed.”

There had been countless occasions where Adam resisted going to bed, insisting on studying or working. This was not one of those times.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Learning to tell patients "I don't know" takes a surprising amount of time to learn, and to learn to do well. I like to hit them with the "I wish I had a better answer, but here's why I don't think it's [insert Big Bad differential diagnosis].")


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The picture was of Ronan in bed, but taken from an angle that Adam couldn’t quite place--whatever it was, it managed to get almost all of Ronan in frame, and just like the first picture he’d sent that week, he was naked. He must have used the timer to take the photo, because Adam could see both of his hands; one was up near his head and the other rested near his navel, fingers spread downward like he was moving to touch himself. He was still clearly unwell, a flush visible on his cheeks and a box of tissues close by, but fuck, he looked good. There was a message below the picture: can’t wait for you to get home.
> 
> \---
> 
> finally, onward and downward.

Adam’s alarm went off at eight, but Ronan was already scrolling through his phone, sitting up against the headboard. “Couldn’t sleep again?” Adam mumbled, flopping back onto the pillow. Five more minutes, he told himself.

“Actually, I slept okay.” Ronan put his phone down and combed his fingers through Adam’s hair. “Probably the first time this week I didn’t wake up in the middle of the night.”

“Good.” Closing his eyes, Adam leaned into Ronan’s touch. Maybe he could just stay like this until pharmacology. Kent _had_ said that he could skip the exam and still pass. Ha. As if Adam were physically capable of simply not taking an exam. His body would probably sleep-walk him to the lab if he tried. Forcing his eyes open, he looked up at Ronan. “How are you feeling?”

After a moment of consideration, Ronan shrugged. “Definitely less out of it than I was--like, I can actually think again. Still just _sick,_ though.”

Adam scooted himself to a sitting position and pressed a hand to Ronan’s forehead; he was still feverish, but Adam would gladly accept some subjective improvement. “Of course you start to feel better right after we go to the doctor.”

“Okay, but you definitely felt better after she told you I wasn’t gonna die.”

“Fair.”

Lifting Adam’s hand off his forehead, Ronan pressed kisses to his knuckles and smiled. “As much as I’d like to stay like this all day, you have an exam.”

Adam groaned and finally pushed himself out of bed. “Fine.” He crossed the room and started to change into day clothes. “Let me know how you’re doing once you’re actually up, okay?”

“Will do.” Ronan blew him a kiss and proceeded to shoo him toward the door. “Now get out of here. And good luck today--not that you need it.”

* * *

Even though Adam had rolled his eyes at the comment, Ronan was right. And Kent had been right as well--he finished the exam before anyone else, and went to wait elsewhere instead of worrying and looking it over for the rest of the time. Once he found a relatively secluded lounge area to kill the time, he took out his phone to see if Ronan had sent him anything. He had, leading with a picture of him lying in bed, eyebrows raised and mouth open in a mask of surprise, thermometer held in front of his face.

 **  
101.3 babyyyyyy  
** **No tylenol  
** **Fucking finally**

**_  
-Ahhh that’s great!  
_ **

**  
Haha I’ve never been so excited to have a temp of 101 before** **  
****WAIT how’d your exam go?  
  
**

Adam was about to type a reply when Allie appeared in his periphery, giving a small wave in an effort not to startle him. “Hey,” she said when he looked up, “I don’t mean to get all up in your business again, but I wanted to make sure everything’s okay with you.” She paused. “I don’t think you’ve missed class once this year.”

“Oh--yeah, I had to take Ronan to the doctor. But he’s okay,” he added quickly. “Thank you.”

“Glad to hear he’s alright.” Allie smiled. “I can send you my notes from yesterday, if you want--they’re not great, but we really didn’t cover anything important.”

When Ronan was feeling better, Adam would have to have him make cupcakes or something for Allie. “That would be _amazing_. Definitely better than zoning out to the lecture recordings.”

She laughed. Why couldn’t Adam have ended up with her in any of his project groups? “No problem. I gotta run to print a few things, but I’ll send you the notes later. Tell Ronan I hope he feels better soon.” Waving again, she turned around and disappeared around the corner, and Adam looked back to his phone.  
  


 **_-Exam went really well :)  
_ ** **_-Also I don’t know if you remember Allie  
_ ** **_-Blonde hair with the rainbow dye job at the bottom  
_ ** **_-But she sends her well wishes_ **

**  
Aw thanks  
** **That’s very wholesome  
** **Unlike the email i just sent you**

  
Adam held his breath and pulled up his email. Sure enough, there was one from Ronan with a blank subject line. Glancing around to make sure none of his classmates were sneaking up on him again, Adam opened the message, immediately covering his mouth with one hand to hide his smile.

The picture was of Ronan in bed, but taken from an angle that Adam couldn’t quite place--whatever it was, it managed to get almost all of Ronan in frame, and just like the first picture he’d sent that week, he was naked. He must have used the timer to take the photo, because Adam could see both of his hands; one was up by his head and the other rested near his navel, fingers spread downward like he was moving to touch himself. He was still clearly unwell, a flush visible on his cheeks and a box of tissues close by, but _fuck,_ he looked good. There was a message below the picture: **can’t wait for you to get home.** Adam stared at the image for a little longer, zooming in to get a better view, then went to text Ronan back.  
  


**_-Gonna be hard not to kiss you while we’re hooking up  
  
_ **

**Mmm just not on the mouth  
** **There are plenty of other places you can kiss me**

 **  
****_-I have never wanted to be done with classes as much as I do right now_ **

**  
Maybe I’ll send you that video later  
** **Be on the lookout for a pigeon carrying a VHS tape  
  
**

 **_-Hahaha  
_ ** **_-Is there gonna be another pigeon with a VHS player?_ **

**  
Good point  
** **I’ll just send a flipbook**

 **_  
-Love it  
_ ** **_-Flipbook sex tape_ **

**  
I gotta get to work on that  
** **But seriously I’m gonna go  
** **I actually feel hungry so I’m gonna make breakfast  
** **I love you**

**_  
-Love you too  
  
_ **

Pocketing his phone, Adam took a deep breath to collect himself before heading downstairs to the lecture hall. No one else was there, so he took a window seat--just in case a bird came by with a delivery.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) so my heat went out yesterday and isn't gonna get fixed until Monday and it's supposed to be 5 degrees out tonight and FRIENDS: your comments have warmed my heart so much (and typing replies keeps my fingers warm too). It's been lovely hearing from so many of you (and getting the absolute RUSH of dopamine every time I get the comment notification--you're all so kind!) (I realize this sounds like a goodbye! It isn't! I just needed to get a lil smushy about how delighted I am that folks are enjoying this series).
> 
> 2) again, thanks to screwsfallout for the 'Ronan with a climbing fever' prompt, and werealldreaming for the 'Adam's just having a tough time in PA school' prompt!
> 
> 3) as always, find me on tumblr with the same username and feel free to toss a prompt my way, or in the comments.


End file.
